


I Can Work With That

by Swlfangirl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Co-Parenting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, InternallyAwkward!Sheriff, Pre-Slash, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: Based on a Tumblr prompt from one of my fav anon's that said, 'At some point it's simpler to just combine households.'
Relationships: Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski
Series: Tumblr Prompts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/453604
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	I Can Work With That

  
  


“Hey Mel, have you seen Stiles’ crosse?” John asks, pinching the old house phone between his shoulder and cheek as he gathers up the rest of his distracted son’s gear. 

“I honestly don’t know the difference between Scott and Stiles’ but I’m at least 73% sure there’s two of them at the house so…surely one of them has to be the one you’re looking for,” she answers, sitting down for the first time in well over three hours. The hospital has her working overtime right now, beyond even normal parameters and she’s drained. 

“73, huh… couldn’t make it a little more interesting?” John grins, “Losing your touch, Melissa.” 

“Nah, just too damn tired to think.” 

“You gettin’ a lunch break today?” he asks, because he can actually hear the exhaustion in her voice.

“Depends on if I feel like takin’ one,” she says, and it’s partially true. She probably won’t get much of a break but she can’t keep going on little to no sleep or food, so she will have to work something out. 

“I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat after I drop this stuff off at the school. Don’t get yourself too busy in the meantime,” he says, and she thanks him immediately, just as the nearest doctor starts calling out to her. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

* * *

  
  


“Stiles, why are you-is Scott even here?” she asks, confused at seeing her pseudo second son standing in some old ratty pajamas over her kitchen stove. 

“Nope, he’s studying with-I think it’s Isaac this week,” Stiles says, and Melissa senses the bitterness, even though it looks as if he’s bitten it off himself. 

“Then why are you here in my kitchen at…” she checks her watch, “Seven forty on a weekend making...ooh are those your pumpkin spice pancakes?” 

“Because I’m awesome, that’s why… and not at all because the final stove cap on our range tuckered out…” Stiles says, sadly. “I wanted to take some to dad too, so I went to the store yesterday, bought all the stuff, slept here last night and figured pancakes for everyone, yeah?” 

Melissa smiles, she’s had a long week at work and somehow, this kid...it’s exactly what she needed. “Of course, sweetheart.” she says, and wraps an arm around his shoulder, kissing the top of his head, or as close as she can reach to it. The kid is growing like a weed.

“Make some extra in case Scott brings Isaac home with him,” she says, because despite understanding the situation all too well, Melissa refuses to allow him to revel in the bitterness and internalize. 

“Ugh, fine… stupid best friend thief. He can have the little ones left over at the end of the batter,” Stiles says, feeling especially generous after Melissa’s total mom hug. He missed those. 

She shakes her head at him and walks away, turning just before she hits the stairs and she goes back to the doorway of the kitchen. “Hey Stiles, you can use our stove whenever you want, okay?” 

“Thanks…” he says, breathing an audible sigh of relief and Melissa knows she’s done the right thing. 

* * *

  
  


“Woah there- Sorry I- Scott?” John says, unavoidably looking down to see the items in his son’s teenage best friend’s hands and his eyes go a bit wider. He thought they had maybe another year or two before all this started up but…

The sheriff sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face as Scott belatedly twists the items around behind his back. The kid got a lot from Melissa, her caramel skin tone, big brown eyes, and a compassion streak a mile wide, something he wished Stiles would learn a little. But one thing he did not get was her brain. The kid was about as bright as an unplugged lamp. 

John almost, he _almost_ acts like it works. He almost pretends he didn’t see the box of *sigh* sheepskin condoms and silicone based lubricant. 

This is going to be mortifying for both of them, he doesn’t see either of them escaping this situation with a modicum of dignity but he knows, he just _knows_ that if it were Stiles… and Melissa was in his position, she’d do better than just walk away. 

“Okay, so this is happening. Scott… I can’t let you buy that-” 

“But sheriff, I’m not-” 

“Scott, don’t say anything. Don’t speak and we’ll get through this…” he says, leading Scott back to the ‘Health and Wellness’ aisle where he probably just picked up one of each thing and thought it was enough. 

John squints a little as his left eye begins to twitch. He is slightly reassured that Stiles won't have the same issue. His kid would research the crap out of it, probably already has given what his econ teacher said at the last parent-teacher meeting. He grimaces at the realization that Stiles must not have thought to pass that knowledge along to his best friend. 

Or, maybe, Scott just didn’t pay attention, or forgot. 

Honestly it’s probably Scott’s fault. 

“First, you can’t just pick up something at random, Scott. You need to make sure you have what you’re looking for and it’s in the right, uh size. Read the back of the boxes if you can’t guess and it should give you an idea of what you’re looking for,” John says, then he took him by the shoulder and led him over to the lubricant. “If you haven’t done any research, which I’m guessing you haven’t... _always, always,_ use water-based lubricant. And if you have any more questions, ask your mom, or at the very least talk to Stiles,” John adds, “I’m leaving now, don’t tell your mother about any of this.” 

Scott nods and John felt like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole, but it wasn’t as awful as he expected, mostly because he hadn’t let Scott talk. Melissa would let him ask all the questions he wanted and answered each one brilliantly with her medical background and just overall intelligence. She’d put a soft mom spin on it, probably hug him and cry a little about her baby growing up. But John is _not_ Melissa and he’s okay with that. He’s okay being more hands off in this area. He’s pretty sure Scott will get the talk soon enough anyway. 

The Sheriff curses Scott under his breath when he gets home to realize he forgot the one thing he went in the store after. 

* * *

  
  


“John I hate to ask-” 

“Whatever it is, Mel it’s fine, Just text me let me know what you need...I gotta go,“ he says, cutting her off. He’s got three deputies waiting outside his door and he doesn’t even think about it. There’s nothing she could ask of him that he wouldn’t gladly give. 

It’s _that_ thought that gives him pause. For a moment at least, until Parrish knocks against his door for the third time and he tells them all to come in.

John settles what he needs to with the deputies and then quickly picks up his phone to a waiting text from Melissa. 

* * *

  
  
  


John wraps his sheriff's jacket over the back of his chair before he sits down. He’s a little early but it's better than turning up late. He lets the waiter fill his water glass and stays quiet. 

He feels more nervous than he cares to, but he tries to relax back in his chair. It only lasts for a few minutes before he begins to fumble with his top button, then his second one...maybe it would be better to just take off the uniform shirt but the plain white tee he has underneath has seen better days and honestly, while the button down feels a little _too professional_ , the tee seems to skew toward the other end of that particular spectrum. 

He sighs at his own train of thought, ‘At least we know Stiles comes by it, honest,’ he says to himself. 

“Since when do Stiles and _honest_ belong in the same sentence?” he hears Melissa say behind him and he smiles, standing to greet her with a warm hug. 

“Hey Mel,” John says, and lets the hug linger until she pulls away. He has to stop himself from pulling her chair out for her. 

Normally he wouldn’t question it but the sting of rejection might come sooner rather than later and as much as he tries to tell himself he wants to get straight to the point, every action, every reaction, is leading him to believe otherwise. 

Deep down he knows he just wants to hold onto the nice atmosphere, their long, enduring friendship. 

He isn’t usually one for theatrics, or feeling scared but one look at Melissa in that purple tank with her favorite, well worn jeans and he feels fear unlike anything he’s dealt with in a long time. 

“So what’s my kid done now?” she teases, sipping from his water cup as they wait for the waiter to show back up. 

“No no...it’s nothing like that,” John says, feeling a bit of heat on his neck as he tries to think of a way to say what he wants. 

“Your kid?” she says, with a lifted eyebrow that tells him she’s observing his low key panic and is kind enough not to say anything. 

“NAh, well...Stiles is always up to something but it’s nothing that I can name just yet. I’ll get back to you on that,” he says, trying to distract her with laughter. Unfortunately it doesn’t last long. 

“Look I’m not complaining here, free meal and all, but it looks like there’s something on your mind and it will probably be better for both of us if you just let it out,” she says. 

It’s not like her, not really. Melissa is more patient than Claud-than his late wife. She doesn’t pester or prod the way his first love did. Not usually, but it’s like she can tell he needs it.

So John, doing the only thing he can, bites the bullet and says what’s on his mind. 

It does not come out as planned…

“Our stove doesn’t work…” he starts, and Melissa gives him a look that says, okay… and? “Your washer is broken...we don’t-can’t use our dining room table anymore-and your kitchen one could do with a replacement…” 

“While all that is true, I don’t understand where this is-” 

“We should just move in together...share one house,” he blurts out and immediately cringes. God, how did he get this so wrong. “No I don’t- I mean, yes… I do mean it but I mean, we could date...we could, I care about you Mel..there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you-” 

“John, stop.”

This is it, he thinks. The end of their long standing traditions as joint families. No more Stilinski-Mccall Christmases or Mccall-Stilinksi Thanksgivings. No more co=parenting, no more emergency contacts for one another, this is the end. 

“John, breathe. It’s okay…” she says softly, looking around to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the sheriff who is currently ‘losing his shit,’ as Stiles would say. 

She waits until he calms, it’s not much but he does feel a little calmer. “Rewind a bit and tell me what brought all this on…” 

“When you called, the other day… and I cut you off. The deputies were waiting outside my door and I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time,” he says, leaning back in his chair a bit. “I agreed to you without even bothering to find out what you needed, and when the call was over I just had this thought, this random thought, and I was like, it’s okay...it’s okay because Melissa wouldn’t ask for anything I wouldn’t give her.” He swallows hard around the lump forming in his throat as he tries so hard to read her face and she’s giving him absolutely nothing to work with. The woman has one hell of a poker face when necessary. 

“And this is what made you think we should...combine households?” she asks, frowning down at the table. 

“Well partially but Mel...if I’m getting everything wrong here, you can tell me. I’ll shut it down and we’ll never talk about it again,” he says, reaching across the table, palm up and open. “but if I’m not, if there’s _something_ more than just coparenting and friendship...I’m sorry I made you wait so long to hear it but I’d very much like to see where it goes.”

It takes a few beats, but then her hand is in his, her lips are curved up in a smile and there’s the warmth of an almost twinkle in her eye as she grins up at him. “That’s better, I can work with that.” 

  
  



End file.
